


The Adventure

by PrairieFarmGirl



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, F/M, Flappers, New Orleans, One Shot, Speakeasies, Strangers to Lovers, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrairieFarmGirl/pseuds/PrairieFarmGirl
Summary: 1920′s Prohibition AU:  Claire and Geillis travel to New Orleans for an adventure.  Their big adventure leads them to a speakeasy in NOLA owned by Jamie Fraser, who leads Claire on the biggest adventure she’s ever experienced.  This story is part of the One Quote One Shot #1 collection.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 10
Kudos: 93





	The Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my first fanfic post! It’s raw, unbeta’ed and good gravy…this is SCARY! Please be kind! I’m doing this just to see if I *can*. So far, no one’s ever read my writing but me. This is taking quite a lot of courage on my part, believe me, y’all! I wanted to focus on writing the hardest thing for me (intimate scenes) so y’all…this is the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed. NSFW. So grab a tall glass of iced tea and a comfy chair because this is freakin’ long. It’s what came out when I wrote it.
> 
> I used a bit of artistic license here. Times, fashions, places, etc. don’t all align properly in a truly historical piece of this era, but in my world they do. 
> 
> Also, I can’t speak a lick of French or Gaelic. If the phrases below really say, “Ask me to dance, you cabbage head”, I trust that someone will tell me so I can correct it. If it’s wrong, y’all can blame Google Translate. 
> 
> Why in the cornbread hell is it so hard to hit POST?! Here goes nuthin’.

**_1919, St. Charles Hotel, New Orleans_ **

Claire knew she was in over her head when she agreed to spend a night out on the town with Geillis. 

A lady didn’t “go out on the town” unescorted. Ladies didn’t go out in the evening. And a lady CERTAINLY didn’t go out wearing what Geillis had in her possession. And absolutely NO lady would be caught dead going to a speakeasy. _{Mrs. Fitz’s voice always seemed to be stuck firmly in Claire’s head reciting moral standards fit for a lady.}_

But Claire never really identified herself as a lady. Her unconventional upbringing was definitely not that of a lady’s gentle rearing. Uncle Lamb had shown her the world in his travels as an archaeologist. She was never tutored in the ways of a conventional lady. She never learned how to embroider or the proper way to sit up ramrod straight in a chair. She never learned how to cook or run an estate. Mrs. Fitz, Uncle Lamb’s cook, had done her best to see Claire reared as a proper lady, but as Uncle Lamb was fond of saying, “I fear the damage has been done.” 

So when Geillis proposed a trip to America after Uncle Lamb’s death, Claire didn’t hesitate. She was not afraid to travel. It wasn’t unheard of for ladies to travel overseas together. Claire had never been to America, as Uncle Lamb tended to favor European and African archaeological digs.

As Claire debated the dress lying on the bed that Geillis wanted her to wear, though, she began to wonder if she found the end of her bravado. 

No self-respecting woman would wear a dress that showed her knees and a bit more. No self-respecting woman would be caught dead without a corset (despite their hurry to remove it when privately in their bed chambers). 

And no lady wore cosmetics unless they were a lady of ill repute. Or so said Mrs. Fitz. 

But then again….Claire wasn’t a conventional lady. And that’s why she and Geillis were the best of friends. Geillis didn’t care what others thought. She flaunted convention. She knew her own mind. Yet even Claire sometimes wondered about Geillis’ mind. 

“Come on Claire! Try it on. I’ll undo ye’re laces for ye.”

“But what DO you wear under that thing? It has no back on it for heaven’s sake, Geillis!” 

“I’m told, on good authority mind you, that American women don’t wear anything under these sort of dresses! Not unlike a proper Scottish kilt,” she giggled.

“WOT! Now Geillis….I don’t believe that for one single minute. Surely they don’t go around bare. And what’s to hold up their stockings?” Claire wasn’t even going to ask Geillis how she knew men went bare under their kilts.

“Oh, that’s what these are for,” Geillis said, holding up a pair of fancy garters. “I got them at a wonderful little boutique in the French Quarter”. 

“Geillis, I really don’t know….”

Geillis stopped her with a hand in the air. “Now Claire, I told ye when we set off on this adventure that we were going to see and do everything there was to do before I have to settle down with Lord Whats-It. If I have to marry that fat old windbag, then I will enjoy my remaining time as a single woman!”

Claire sighed. She knew full well that Geillis would not be marrying her ‘Lord Whats-It’. In fact, Claire couldn’t see her marrying anyone at all, titled or otherwise. Claire decided to at least give the dress a try here in the privacy of her bedchambers. And it wouldn’t hurt to try a bit of makeup. But she refused to chop her hair off in the shocking style that many American women had adopted like Geillie did. Claire’s curly mop would never behave enough to carry it off. 

As Geillis left the room to go see to her own toilette, Claire began the transformation from an Edwardian lady dressed in the height of style, to a “Flapper”. 

Some time later, Geillis peeked back in Claire’s room and exclaimed at Claire’s metamorphosis. Suzette, the French lady’s maid that attended them, was very adept at hairdressing in the current styles. She also had a fair hand with the application of cosmetics. She had said that she had learned it, in a hushed voice, from a certain…er… “person” who had resided in Storyville before becoming an actress. 

Geillis hooted. “Oh dear! Ye mean a prostitute?”

Suzette colored, replying, “A lady’s maid never tells.”

Geillis snorted at that, but seeing Suzette’s discomfort, she let it go.

“Can I see now?” Claire inquired for probably the eighty-seventh time. 

Geillis grinned and raved, “Oh Claire! Ye are a vision! Suzette has outdone herself.”

Claire slowly turned on her chair to see someone she hardly recognized in the mirror. Her hair was cleverly done so that it resembled a bob, but without having to cut her hair off. Suzette had tamed her curly mass into soft waves that she recognized from many of the American fashion magazines that Geillis had eagerly shown her. She had never worn a thing on her face before, other than dust, so having dark, smoky eyes and bright red lips with pink color on her cheeks threw her like nothing she’d ever seen. It took her several minutes to take it all in. 

Before she had found her voice, Geillis pulled her off her chair and stood her before the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Claire gasped in shock and her jaw dropped.

Before her stood someone she didn’t know. Her pale skin (and a LOT of it) was glowing in the light. Her soft curves were accentuated by the styling of the black dress, leaving not much to the imagination. She turned and looked over her shoulder. The back of the dress was held together not by a zipper or fabric, but by strings of shimmery beads that gleamed against her pale ivory skin. She turned back around and saw her knees peek through the beading of the daring hemline of the skirt. The plunging neckline gave away more than a hint of decolletage that had never seen the light of day. It was most definitely a change from her usual long sleeves and high necked fashions, never mind that her knees were showing. 

Geillis walked up by the mirror, reached up to Claire’s jaw and shut it. “No need to let the flies get in, dearest.” Claire recovered long enough to swat Geillis on the arm. 

“I don’t even know who I’m looking at in the mirror, Geillie!” 

“Ye’re a true beauty, Claire! I’m completely green with jealousy! Now, let me finish dressing and let’s hit the Big Easy before ye lose your nerve.”

**************

Claire was never so glad for the darkness of the hour. She would never have been able to walk out of the hotel in the light of day looking as she did. When they arrived at the speakeasy in the Vieux Carre’, Claire nearly chickened out. Geillie grabbed her hand and pulled her in the door before she could bolt. “Buck up, Claire! Ye’re a beauty! Be confident. Dinnae be a ninny!”

Claire drew in a deep breath, checked her cleavage for the umpteenth time to be certain everything was contained (barely) and took in her surroundings. They were in a private club that on the surface looked completely respectable. When they were approached by the maitre d’, Geillis murmured, “ _Je suis pret_ ”. Claire didn’t know Gellie could speak a word of French. Albeit in a terrible French accent. 

“Very well mademoiselle.” They were led through a darkened hallway, down a set of stairs and came to a door that was all but hidden to anyone who looked at it. He tapped in rhythm 3 times and the door was opened to what had to be the speakeasy. Claire blinked a few times to get her eyes adjusted to the darkness and followed the door man to their table. On the stage was a band playing music Claire wasn’t familiar with (was this that “jazz” she had been hearing about?). Looking around, Claire saw many curious eyes following them. “Gellie, I’m not sure…”

“Oh Claire, ye are not even seated yet.” Geillis took her wrist and pulled her into a chair at the table. The waiter standing by took their drink orders (whisky, or more aptly, liquid courage) and disappeared into the darkness. Geillis said, “Well, Claire. What do ye think? We are in a real speakeasy!” 

“Well, Geillie, I can truly say that I never would have guessed I’d be doing this on our adventure. What do you suppose Uncle Lamb would think?” 

“Well, I suspect he’d not be happy with what little ye’re wearing, but we can leave that wee part out, aye?” 

Claire laughed. Geillie leaned over to Claire and whispered in her ear, “Hmmmm…I believe ye already have an admirer up at the bar! The lad hasn’t taken his eyes off ye since we entered.”

Claire looked where Geillie nodded and blinked a few times. At the bar was one of the tallest men she’d ever seen. He had unfashionably long auburn curls. But his evening suit was in the very height of style. As the waiter approached with their drinks, the man took them from the tray and walked to their table. 

“It’s no’ verra often that I see two lassies who order a good Scottish whisky. Ye must no’ be from here.” His voice was deep, smooth, and heavily accented like Geillis’.

Geillie replied, “Well, that we aren’t. Why don’t ye sit down and guess where we’re from, ye wee fox cub?”

He launched into a language that Claire didn’t recognize, but Geillie certainly did. She replied and hooted, “Weel, I’m found out!” and they followed with more rapid conversation in the same guttural language.

Claire looked between them and asked, “What did you say?”

He grinned at Claire with a spectacular smile that captivated her. “I asked her what a Highland lass was doing with a Sassenach. Then I asked her if she thought her friend might be interested in dancing wi’ me and she told me ye would be if she had to push ye out on the floor herself.” 

Claire took a sip of her whisky, which was VERY good, and laughed at the cheek of him. She decided that she just might actually enjoy this little adventure Geillie had dragged her out on after all. 

“ _Pourquoi ne me demandes-tu pas et je te le dirai_ ,” Claire told him in flawless French. 

He answered her just as flawlessly. He laughingly told Geillis, who looked clueless, “Well, she put me in my place. She told me to ask her properly and I’d find out.”

He stood up, made a courtly bow to Claire and said, “Would ye care to dance my lady fair?” and extended his hand to her.

Claire took his hand and stood up. He looked her up and down slowly, one corner of his mouth raising in a seductive half smile. Claire was fairly certain he had just undressed her with his eyes. Well, what there was to undress. When they reached the dance floor, she took in the couples around them. They were dancing very closely, certainly not a dance she’d ever seen in public. The song was a slow, sinuous song, also unfamiliar to her. He took her by the hand and put his hand on her waist. He pulled her close to him, as the other couples were, and began swaying slowly to the music. She felt his hand burn a path on her back, skin-to-skin. She looked up to him and he grinned. 

“I like ye’re wee dress.” 

Claire colored. “Thank you.”

“So I know ye’re from England, you speak French and ye aren’t used to the likes of this place. Now, tell me ye’re name.”

“Guilty as charged. I’m Claire Beauchamp. I know you’re from Scotland, speak French and something I don’t even know and don’t appear to be fazed by my shocking state of dress.”

“Weel, I was speaking the Gaidhlig. And while I might be a wee bit shocked, I can certainly appreciate ye’re wee dress.”

“What brings you to New Orleans, then Mr…?”

“Fraser. James Fraser. My friends call me Jamie. I live here. I came from Scotland looking for a wee change. I ended up here, working with my cousin Jared.”

“I see. What do you do here?”

“I own this place.”

That startled Claire a bit. He didn’t look like the sort that would illegally run a speakeasy during Prohibition. 

“Yer glass face says it all, ye know.” 

“Wha…I…What do you mean?”

“Ye have a glass face. Ye’re very easy to read. Ye are wondering why I’m breaking the law by illegally selling liquor.”

“Well, there is that.”

“I’m making money to keep our family farm and estate going in Scotland. We’ve gone through some hard times. I send back everything I can to my sister. She and her husband keep the farm running.”

“I’m sorry you’ve experienced difficulties. Is that what brought you to America, then?”

“Aye. What about yerself?”

“My parents died when I was very young. My uncle, who raised me, recently died as well. Geillis is my best friend. She thought we could use some time away, see the world, go on an adventure.” Claire noted that said best friend was currently engaged in quite the flirtation on the dance floor with a dapper looking young man. Lord Whats-It was definitely not on her mind.

“And has it been an adventure, then?”

“Well, I’d certainly say so. I’m standing in an illegal speakeasy, dressed like a Flapper. So far, it’s been quite the adventure!”

“So this manner of dress isn’t what ye’re used to, then?”

“Oh, no! I’m usually dressed quite properly. I’ve never even worn cosmetics before.”

She couldn’t miss his glance down to her decolletage. His hand on her back (on her skin!) tightened more and brought her even closer to him, if that was even possible. That hand burned a path further down her back, stopping scandalously at the base of her spine. She took in a shaky breath and looked Jamie in the eyes. Even in a darkened room, she could tell he had the clearest sky blue eyes. The look he gave her made her catch her breath. She felt his finger trace a line up her spine and then back down, causing her to give a little shiver.

“Are ye cold, then?”

“No. Not at all. In fact, it’s a bit stuffy just now.”

“Come wi’ me, then.”

He took Claire’s hand and led her off the floor to another door, passing by Geillie and her dance partner. Geillie who gave Claire a little flutter of her fingers and a wink of the eye. They passed through yet another secret door and walked up another set of elegant stairs to an open set of doors. He led her onto a balcony covered with beautifully detailed ironwork, interwoven with fragrant jasmine. She took a deep breath and sighed. Soft music, much different than the music below stairs, drifted out onto the balcony where they stood. Moonlight illuminated the night, giving her a clearer view of her admirer. To say he was beautiful seemed almost wrong. But she had no other word for it. 

Their eyes met and held. He reached up and gently brushed a wayward tendril behind her ear.

“I know we’ve only just met, but may I kiss ye?” 

That was most definitely not what she expected him to say. As if mesmerized in a trance, she slowly nodded her head even before she realized what she was doing. He closed the slight distance between them and dropped his eyes to her lips. When his lips finally brushed her own, she reached up and put her hands on his shoulders. His hands returned to her back as he deepened the kiss. That finger again began tracing her spine, but this time the finger dipped into the edge of her dress at the base of her spine. She gasped and he pressed his advantage, touching his tongue to her own. She felt a shock of lightning go down her spine causing her knees to almost give way. He pulled her flush against his body as her arms twined around his neck, tangling her fingers in with his auburn curls. His fingers braved a little further beneath her dress and traced a path just to her arse. No one had ever touched her there. She found that she did not care a whit as he was now kissing her senseless. Her back arched as his hand dipped lower and he found she was bare underneath her scrap of a dress. He drew a sharp breath and moaned, pressing her hips to his own. He groaned and tore his lips away from her. 

In her ear, he said, “I’ve been wondering all night what ye could possibly have on underneath that wee bit of a dress. Christ, Claire! Ye are a daring wee thing!”

“I’ve never dressed like this before.” Or is it undressed?

“I like it.”

“I’m not a loose woman, Jamie.”

“I never would have thought it of ye, Claire! I don’t even know ye, but I do believe ye. I dinnae make it a habit to kiss women I’ve only just met, either. I dinnae ken what this is, but it’s different. Do you feel it, too?”

Claire nodded. It was different. She couldn’t look at him and not want the forbidden. Forbidden or not, she was going on this adventure. 

“Come to my rooms.”

“But Geillis…”

“I’ll see to it that she gets home safely. You are on an adventure. Say yes.”

Claire didn’t have to think hard about it. “Alright.”

Jamie stepped away from the balcony into the open doors. He summoned a waiting servant, who he spoke to lowly. The waiter nodded his head and disappeared down the stairs. 

“It’s all arranged. Are you alright wi’ this? Ye can say no at any time and I’ll take ye back to your rooms.”

In for a pound, Claire mused. “I’m alright. Let’s go.”

*************

Claire had never been in an automobile before. Frankly, she was a bit terrified. Jamie helped her into the back seat and entered behind her. Jamie spoke quickly to the chauffeur and he took his seat next to Claire. 

“Have ye never been in an automobile before, then?”

“What? How did you know?”

“Weel, Claire that glass face is giving ye away again. Ye look terrified. Dinnae fash, though. It’s verra safe. We don’t have far to go.”

As the car started to roll forward, Claire grabbed onto Jamie’s arm and squeezed him tightly to her side. He gave a low husky laugh and said, “I think I might really enjoy this ride.”

Claire poked him in his side. “Don’t make fun! This is frightening!”

“I’ll keep ye safe, Sassenach.”

“See that you do! Wait. What did you just call me?”

“Sassenach. It means outlander or foreigner. I mean no offense by it.”

“Hmmm…I like it. Especially when you say it like that.”

With that, Jamie put his arm around Claire and drew her tightly to his side. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she grabbed the automobile’s handle on the left and Jamie’s knee on the right. He leaned to her ear and whispered, “Are ye chilled…Sassenach?”

She shivered, but not because of the temperature. “No, not in the least. The breeze feels nice.”

“It is balmy tonight.” 

His hand moved down to her shoulder and began stroking her bare skin by her dress straps. She leaned her head on his shoulder, turning slightly his way. He turned his head and drew in a deep breath. “Ye smell so nice. Like lavender and vanilla.” 

She smiled. That French soap that she always splurged on paid off. 

She looked up at him. Their eyes spoke what their lips couldn’t say. Their quickened breathing and roving hands doing a very small part of what they longed to do in private.

The automobile stopped. Jamie broke away from her reluctantly and exited the automobile, holding his hand out for her. She slid across the seat and took his hand. 

“Did ye enjoy yer first ride, after all?” 

“Actually, I think I did. It suddenly wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.” 

“Are ye still sure?”, he asked, giving her the chance to back out one more time.

“Yes.” 

He smiled at her, took her by the hand and led her inside what looked to be a beautiful mansion. She asked, “Do you live here alone, then?”

“No. This place belongs to my best mate, John Gray. We came to America together. He insisted that I stay with him so I could send more money home to Lallybroch.”

“Lallybroch is the name of your farm?”

“Yes. It’s more of an estate, though. It’s an ancient old castle that requires a massive amount of money to maintain. We have a very profitable stables, which normally keeps the farm afloat. However, we are trying to update the home and add some of the more modern conveniences. Our tenants rely upon us to help as well.”

“Tenants? Do you rent out rooms?”

“Oh no. Weel, ye see, I’m the Laird. I oversee many farms that are on the Fraser lands.” 

“Oh.” Claire was speechless. Could he be more perfect? Oh, what Geillis would think!

“Enough about me. Come in and I’ll get ye another whisky. I didn’t let ye even finish the one ye had.”

They entered the mansion and were greeted by a door man awaiting them. Jamie handed his hat to him and took Claire into the front parlor where he opened a cabinet and poured them both a whisky. He handed Claire her glass and she quickly downed it.

Jamie laughed again. “Thirsty are ye?”

“A little. And a more than a little nervous, too, if I’m honest. Liquid courage, as it were.”

“Would you like another?”

“Yes, please.”

He refilled her glass and she took a slower sip of this one. 

“Sit, Claire, and relax. I wasn’t planning to suddenly force myself on ye.”

“Oh! I never thought you would. I’ve just never…well.” Claire looked down at the whisky glass she held tightly in her lap.

“Ye’ve never done this before? Do ye mean, ye’ve never gone to a man’s home or that ye’re a…”

“A virgin. I’m a virgin. I know what we’re about to do. I’m not uninformed. I’m just, you know…nervous. And a little scared.”

“Dinnae be scared, _mo nighean donn_.” He brought her to him in a hug. 

“What does that mean? Is that Gaelic?”

“Aye. It means my brown-haired lass.”

“Oh. I like that. _Mo nighean_ ….”

“ _Mo nighean donn_ ,” he whispered huskily as he wound his finger in little curly tendrils that were escaping the pins Suzette had skillfully placed in her hair. “I want more than anything to see ye’re hair down right now. May I?”

“Yes.”

And pin by pin, her hair came down. He took her forgotten whisky glass and set it upon the table. He turned her to face him and he reached up and ran his fingers through her unruly locks. “Ye have beautiful hair, Claire. It minds me of a Scottish burn, the way the color changes in the moonlight.”

“I always thought it was rather dull myself.”

“Oh nay. No’ at all. Promise me that ye’ll never cut it off, like so many of these American women are doing now.”

“Never,” she whispered, enthralled with his husky voice.

He stood up and pulled her to him. He kissed her gently then, and said, “Are ye ready?” 

She could do little more than nod. 

He led her from the parlor and up the stairs to his private chambers. He stopped at his door, put a hand to her cheek, and said one last time, “Alright?”

She nodded. And he opened the door.

*************

He led her into his chambers then closed and bolted the door. She looked at his large bed draped in blue hangings and what appeared to be mosquito netting. The windows were open and the moonlight streamed in, cooling the room down with a nice breeze. He walked her to his bed and sat down, drawing her to him between his legs. 

“If you want to stop at any time, all ye need to do is say the word. But once we get started, I dinnae think that I can stop, Claire.” 

“I understand.” She reached up to his cheek and ran her fingers over his whiskered jaw. She liked the feel of it under her fingers. He removed his evening jacket, tie and waistcoat, then reached for her again. “I’ve thought all evening about what you don’t have on underneath this dress. I swear to ye, Claire, that it was all I could do to not take you right on that balcony when I found out ye had nothing on under this wee scrap of a dress. 

Claire gave him a sultry smile (still in for a pound), and reached up to unbutton his shirt. She tugged out the shirt tails from his trousers and finished off the last of the buttons. Running her fingers slowly up from his waistline, raking her fingernails over his flat nipples (he gasped for air then as if he’d been running a race) and then moved her hands up to his shoulders, pushing his shirt off his arms. She ran her hands over his muscled arms and chest, marveling over the rock solid feel of him. 

“ _Mo nighean donn_ , ye have no idea what ye’re doing to me right now. How do you get this dress off?” She turned her back to him and instructed him on how to unhook the beads from the straps running down her back. String by string, he slowly released her from her frock. “Walk over there and slip your dress off with your back to me. Ye can lay ye’re wee dress there. But go slowly,” he instructed.

So that’s how he wanted it to be, she grinned. She walked slowly over to the stool by the mirror. She could see him watching her, with his eyes on her arse. Luckily the liquid courage had kicked in, calming her nerves. She’d grant him the show he wanted. She swayed her hips as she walked and took a quick glance at him over his shoulder as she slowly lowered a strap. She heard his unsteady intake of air, giving her the courage to continue. She slowly shimmied the dress down her body, moving her hips side-to-side. She could see him shifting on the bed, clearly uncomfortable in his tight trousers. She heard the beaded dress hit the floor and grasping that last bit of bravado, she bent over and retrieved it from the floor, displaying her arse (and a bit more, she was sure) to his captivated delight. Tossing her dress onto the stool, she looked over her shoulder and asked, “Should I take off my heels and stockings?”

He was speechless and shook his head yes. Good, she thought. She must be doing this right, then. 

She slowly turned back to him and walked back to him. When she reached him, she toed off her shoes, then put one leg up on the bed beside him and slowly rolled her stocking down and off. When she switched to her other leg, she noted that he clearly was NOT looking at her leg but something else entirely different.

Completely bare, she extended a hand to him and he took it. She pulled him to his feet and reached to undo his trousers. As she lowered the zipper, her fingers brazenly brushed the hard length of him. His eyes fell closed and he moaned. 

“God, Claire. Please.”

In that moment, she felt like the most powerful woman on earth. She released him from his trousers and shoved them to the floor. He’d already taken off his shoes and stockings. A completely bare Jamie Fraser was a sight to behold. The Grecian statues that she had glimpsed on her travels with Uncle Lamb were nothing in comparison to what she saw on Jamie. Tentatively, she reached and wrapped her fingers around him. He let out another moan that sounded like a man dying. He grabbed her hand and guided her on how to stroke his cock, but he didn’t last long before tearing her hand away, breathing fast, chest heaving. 

“Claire, fuck! I need you now!” And with that he picked her up by the waist and tossed her on the bed. He crawled up toward her, like an animal stalking his prey, his eyes hooded and chest heaving. 

He kissed his way up her legs, his eyes never leaving hers. As he came closer to the apex of her thighs, her breathing quickened and she tried to close her thighs, afraid of what he might do. “No,” he said. “Don’t close ye’re legs. Ye’re smell intoxicates me. Let me kiss ye there. I promise ye will enjoy it.” 

And she opened her legs. Clearly, her mind had completely shut down. Normal Claire would never do such a thing, let alone think it was a possibility. Flapper Claire, who was more than a little inebriated, was curious and won the argument. 

Jamie lowered his head and slowly drew a finger between her legs. “God, Claire. Ye’re so fucking wet.” She was shocked by his course talk, but she found that she loved it. Her hips rose of their own accord as he did it again. This time, his thumb circled a particularly sensitive spot. Claire moaned and her thighs dropped to the side even more. He lowered his head and licked her with his tongue, embarrassing her as he breathed in a deep breath. “Ah God, Claire! Ye smell so good!” 

As he licked and sucked on her clit, his finger slowly entered her, sliding in and out. “Jamie!” she keened and he slid in a second finger. She was so tight and found it slightly uncomfortable, but his wicked tongue made her quickly forget what he was about. She reached down and grabbed hold of his auburn locks as he quickened his fingers and tongue. Her heart was pounding and she started to feel a build up to something she’d only ever done to herself under her covers at night. She tugged on his hair and he looked up at her.

“I want you now, Jamie. Please!”

He went to his hands and knees again and began crawling up the rest of her body. He stopped at her breasts, taking one in his mouth and the other in hand, toying with her hardened nipple. She moaned again and raised her hips looking for something…anything to give her relief.

He gently nipped her with his teeth, causing her to call out his name again on a moan. “I love the wee squeaks ye make.”

“I do not squeak!”

“Aye, ye do. Now let’s see what other sounds ye dinnae make.”

And he kissed her while he slowly slid home. She let out a near scream and grabbed his arse with both hands. He stilled and waited for her to relax and get used to his length.

“Alright? Did I hurt ye too much, Claire?”

She took a deep, shaky breath and shook her head. “I’m alright.” 

Slowly, he withdrew and slid back in. With each additional slow thrust, the pain disappeared. He was carefully watching her face and he knew the minute that pain had given way to pleasure. He moaned out, “move with me” and he kissed her again, sliding his tongue in to mimic what he was doing between her legs. They both moaned and his thrusting soon began in earnest. Each time he thrust this time, he hit the sensitive spot between her legs that he had given so much attention to with his tongue. Just the thought of that act drove Claire nearly over the edge. Her hips began moving faster and set them into a frenzy. 

He latched on to her nipple again and sucked and bit her sensitive nipple. She felt a burst of electricity going from her spine down into her fingers, causing her to cry out in pleasure. She ground her pelvis up against his groin, giving her clit much needed friction. She could feel her inner muscles starting to clamp down around his cock and knew she was nearly there. She grabbed his arse and Jamie nearly yelled. “Oh God! Fuck! Oh Claire!” 

Jamie’s arms straightened and his back arched. His face looked to be in near pain and he let out a loud groan as he pulsed and released inside her. That’s all she needed and stars burst before her eyes. She yelled his name and shook with the strength of their mutual orgasm. They clung to each other for several minutes as their spasms slowed. 

“Christ, Claire. Did I hurt ye? Was I too rough with ye?”

“No, Jamie. Truly. It was wonderful.”

Smoothing back her hair, he whispered, “ _Mo chridhe_. Ye’re so beautiful with the moonlight on your skin.”

She smiled at him, content. She never wanted to move from this spot, from this moment. 

Eventually, he slowly eased out of her and rose from the bed. He returned to the bed with a small bowl of water and a cloth. “Let me help clean you up.”

“No, Jamie, really…”

“Claire. I had my mouth on ye minutes ago. Do you really think this is more intimate than that?”

He had a point. He carefully wiped his seed from her legs, wincing at the amount of blood mixed in with it. She watched his face carefully, deciding not to be embarrassed by his care of her. When he was finished, he tossed the cloth in the bowl and turned his back to her to take care of his own ablutions. 

She closed her eyes, moaning and stretching her sore, overused muscles. He crawled up onto the bed next to her and took her in his arms, kissing her gently on her lips. 

“You called me something earlier. What was that?”

He was silent for a while, looking at her. He kissed her again and then whispered, “My love.” 

Her heart melted right then and there. She was a goner from that very second on.

***********

She awoke the next morning to the sun warming her skin and Jamie kissing her neck. 

“Mmmmmmm…..good morning, my Sorcha.”

“Good morning.” She smiled, overflowing with happiness. “How did you sleep?” 

“I’ve never slept better in my entire life. How did ye sleep?”

“Same,” she smiled and kissed him. 

“Claire, we need to talk.”

And just like that her heart nearly stopped. Was he ending it? Was this a one-night stand? He reached up and tipped her chin up so she would meet his eyes. She saw the love there and immediately relaxed. 

“What we did last night…it was beautiful, _mo chridhe_. I know we have only just met, but I want you to know that…well…”

“Say it, Jamie.”

“ _Mo nighean donn_ , I love ye. I dinnae ken why, but Da always said I’d ken when I found the one. I ken ye may not feel the same, but I just wanted ye to know how I feel. If we made a bairn last night, I would be proud to have ye as my wife. I would spend my entire life making you happy.”

A baby. She never once thought about that. Her hands slid down to her lower stomach and she looked up at him. “Jamie, I never even thought…Do you think we did make a baby?”

“I dinnae ken Claire. But ye will let me know? Please?”

“Of course.” 

There was a knock on the door. “Jamie? Are you awake?”

“Yes, John?”

“Someone by the name of Geillis dropped by a package for you. Should I just leave it for you outside your door then or would you like me to bring it in?”

“NO! No, no. Just leave it on the floor by the door. I’ll see to it shortly.”

“Alright then. Will you be down for breakfast? I can have it sent up to you, if you’d prefer.”

“I think maybe send it up. Send plenty. I’m starved!”

A pause. And then, “Shall I send two plates?”

Claire snorted, causing Jamie to grin. “Yes, John. Two plates will be fine.”

“Alright then. I hope you’ll make the introductions later.”

“GOODBYE JOHN!”

She heard laughing outside the door as John left the package and walked away.

Jamie rose to put on his trousers (presenting his arse to Claire in a way she’d never in life forget) and went to the door to retrieve the package.

He brought the box in and handed it to Claire. “I presume this is for you, given who it came from.”

Claire opened the box and found a complete change of clothes and a few things to complete her morning toilette, along with a note. Jamie asked, “What does she say, then?”

“It says, ‘Dearest Claire, I ken that ye wouldn’t think of this, so I’m doing ye a favor. Ye can thank me later. For all of it. Tell yer wee fox cub that I send my regards this fine morning. ~ G’ “

Claire looked up at Jamie to see him grinning like a cat who ate all the cream. She couldn’t help it. She grinned back. 

“Alright. Get up lazy bones. Let’s get these clothes on ye, afore we are caught well and truly.”

**********

An hour, and several kisses later, they were seated at the table in Jamie’s chambers eating their breakfast. Cook had outdone herself and presented them with a tray laden with the most delicious food Claire had ever had in her entire life. 

“What? Do I have egg on my face?”

Jamie laughed at her and replied, “Nay. I just love a woman who’s not afraid to eat in front of a man.”

Claire giggled. “I’m starved! I’ll eat what I damn well want, when I want!”

“Good! That’s what I like to hear.” Then, “Claire, do ye have to leave?” 

“What? Why? What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean, I know I really didn’t ask you the question last night, but this time, I mean it. The more that I think of the thought of losing ye and never seeing ye again, weel…Claire, I just…I can’t.” He came around the table, took her hand and dropped to his knees before her.

“Claire, I know we are all but strangers, but like Da said, I’d ken ye when I finally found ye. Weel, I found ye. And I never in life want to be wi’out ye again. Would ye do me the honor of being my wife forever?”

Claire was stunned speechless.

“Claire, please! Say something.” 

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

Jamie launched himself at her, nearly upsetting her chair. He started to kiss her senseless. Suddenly, he pulled away and pulled a ring off his little finger. “This ring belonged to my Mam. Da gave it to me after she died and told me to give it to ye when I found ye.” He slid the plain, but beautifully detailed band on her finger. It fit perfectly. He bent over and kissed her ring. 

“I want to marry you as soon as I may. Would you be willing to get married here in America, then go back to Scotland with me? I have been wanting to get out of the speakeasy business for some time now. I’ve gotten a few offers, but I’ve just never taken them up on them. I’m ready to go home, Claire. Home, with ye.”

“Oh Jamie. That sounds absolutely perfect.” Jamie kissed her quickly on her lips. 

“Come. Let me introduce ye to John and tell him our happy news.”

***************

**_A year later_ **

**_Lallybroch_ **

Claire screamed again. And called Jamie a “bloody fucking bastard!” again for the…well, Jamie had lost count of the times. The midwife told Claire, “Now dearie! Just one more push and it will all be done!” Claire pushed with all her might, holding tight to Jamie’s hand. “That’s it! Keep on! Ah! There she is!” 

With that, the midwife laid their baby girl on Claire’s chest while she and Jamie’s sister, Jenny, attended to the afterbirth and the clean up. Claire looked at Jamie, eyes full of love for her new little family. Jamie had tears streaming down his cheeks. He kissed his brave wife, “Mo chridhe, thank you for this blessing!” 

Jenny had taken the baby to give her her first bath. Jamie had blanched at the sight of all the blood, but the midwife had assured him it was all very normal. “In all my years birthin’ bairns, I’ve never in life had a father in the birthin’ room. The things ye youngin’s think of!” 

Claire laughed and grabbed Jamie’s hand, bringing it to her mouth for a kiss. “I hope I didn’t break any fingers. I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she said, noticing the deep, red moons where her fingernails left angry looking marks on his hand.

“Nay mo nighean donn. I can endure anything for ye.”

Jenny had finished up the baby’s bath and returned her, wrapped in a soft blanket, to her blissful parents. “Here we are! She is beautiful! Jamie, she looks so like Mam!”

And she did, Jamie thought. 

When everyone had left the birthing room giving the little family a bit of privacy, Jamie asked timidly, “Claire? Did ye really mean all that ye said?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“When ye were in ye’re pains. Ye yelled that I wasn’t ever touching ye again. And ye called me a ‘bloody fucking bastard’. Claire, if ye really don’t want…”

Claire gave a laugh, “Jamie! Look at me.” He looked up. Those beautiful blue eyes and auburn curls were exactly mirrored on their new daughter. “Of course I didn’t mean a thing I said. I don’t even know where all that came from, really.”

Just then their daughter let out a wail, leaving no question as to what needed to happen. Claire lowered her nightgown and raised their child to her breast. She latched on strongly and Jamie reached over and stroked her red hair with a delicate touch. 

“Can I get ye anything, Claire? Are ye truly alright? There was so much blood. Ye scairt the life from me!”

“I’m fine, Jamie. Would you get my tartan wrap from the wardrobe?”

Jamie left his spot and went to do her bidding. In his search for the wrap, a ray of morning sunshine caught a wee sparkle that drew his eye. He moved the clothing out of the way to see what it was. There, hiding all the way in the back, hung the daring dress that Claire wore when they met. Jamie smiled fondly, thinking back to that sultry night in New Orleans.

“Did you find it, Jamie?”

“Oh aye. I found it.” And he wasn’t talking about the wrap. 

**And the world was all around us, new with possibility.**


End file.
